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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26318224">Sway</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskull/pseuds/cherryjam'>cherryjam (blueskull)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FFXIV Write 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy XIV</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dancing, F/M, FFxivWrite2020, Fluff, Hyur Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Romance, takes place some indeterminate time during shb msq, written for ffxivwrite2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:33:59</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,754</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26318224</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueskull/pseuds/cherryjam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"I’ll ask again: would you like to dance with me?"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>FFXIV Write 2020 [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1913422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sway</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Arianna is nose-deep in another fiction novel when the Ascian sees fit to interrupt her. Though, given that she hadn’t been especially listening to him very closely -- courtesy of the book, only the utterance of her name had roused her -- she’s left upturning a blank gaze to him as he stares at her expectantly, one hand out. Her eyes flicks from his face, basked in the peculiar light of the glowing -- mushroom? -- in this little corner of Il Mheg, to his gloved fingers.</p><p>“Sorry...?”</p><p>Emet-Selch clears his throat, looking vaguely irritated. “I <em>asked </em>if you wanted to <em>dance</em>.”</p><p>The surprise has her eyes widening slightly in bemusement. Not at his presence -- she’s known he was here, of course, doing his scheming or plotting or sleeping whilst she reads -- but to say that she ever expected that sort of question from him...</p><p>“You want to...dance...?” she repeats blankly, tilting her head to the side as she slowly closes her book. Though surely not because she wants to dance. She just doesn’t think she can concentrate on the words anymore after his impromptu query. Gently, she places the tome to the side, beneath the conveniently lamp-shaped and lamp-like luminescent mushroom.</p><p>“Isn’t that what you were reading about?” Emet-Selch gives a nod to her discarded book.</p><p>A mild flush rises to her cheeks as she brushes thin fingers through a few strands of wavy hair, her gaze averting. There had, indeed, been a ballroom scene within its pages; one she had been in the middle of reading, in fact. Voeburt dances truly must have been a sight to behold.</p><p>“Th-that — you’ve read this, too...?” Embarrassment fades into curiosity as Arianna glances at him out of the corner of her eye. She hadn’t expected him to read this sort of novel.</p><p>“No.” He allows a moment for this answer to sink in and smirks as the flush deepens in colour. “But I can see I’ve guessed correctly. So, I’ll ask again: would you like to dance with me, Arianna?”</p><p>Arianna rather feels as if she’s just been caught doing something she shouldn’t really be doing, though that’s ridiculous — ah, she supposes this technically counts, doesn’t it...</p><p>Though at his repeated question and his casual offer, she finds herself wondering. <em>Would </em>she <em>like</em> to dance?</p><p>Surely, the answer, normally, would be a resounding <em>no</em>. And yet why can she find herself feeling just a little bit <em>curious</em>...? She’s very <em>curious</em>...about how that might be like, with him, of all people. Though a part of her wonders if he’d simply step on her feet every which way and attempt to embarrass her at every turn --</p><p>Swallowing nervously, she slowly stands, very surreptitiously not looking at him as she quietly smooths the fabric of her robes. Only then does she finally, shyly look up at him.</p><p>“I-I suppose...I would not mind...”</p><p>At her assent, a grin crosses his features so large that she should probably feel concerned. But, Arianna assures herself, he has had plenty of opportunities to kill her before should he ever have felt the whim to do so...and besides, as the so-called warrior of light and darkness, it would be rather pathetic if she could not at least stall him if it came to that...</p><p>She would like to think it wouldn’t. She would not like to think about it at all.</p><p>“Excellent. Ah, but...” His tone turns thoughtful as he tilts his head to look toward the ground. “I fear we will need a change of venue. Not much place to <em>dance</em> here, after all.” Emet-Selch gestures toward the gently rippling stream that passes through this small cave, then his hand lifts. A void portal opens. “Do you mind? It’ll be faster than using that bird of yours.”</p><p>Arianna glances between him and the portal. Making a split second decision, she gently places her hand on his.</p><p>Closing her eyes, she allows herself to be lead along through --</p><p>And when she opens them again, they are still within Il Mheg, but this time on the wide, expansive balcony of Titania’s castle. The moon gleams above them, casting them both in a silvery glow.</p><p>“You don’t think they’d care, do you? This is what this place was made for, after all...if I recall.” Emet-Selch doesn’t let go of her hand; on the contrary, he pulls her further after him as the portal shuts. Pausing beneath the moonlight, he regards her for a moment. “But I think we need a change of clothes, too. These are rather plain for a midnight dance...”</p><p>His other hand slowly lifts, forming that tell-tale finger snap motion. Before she can think it through, or really think much at all, she’s grasped at his hand in an attempt to put a stop to him. Because, really, no, she does <em>not</em> want either of them to be changing clothes here, magically or not --</p><p>The boldness of the action has them both still for a moment. The Ascian is, perhaps, surprised, though his gaze does little to show it; and for once Arianna has little of a flush to her, too caught up in the trepidation of the impulse to actually feel self-conscious.</p><p>And then Emet-Selch smirks, and the hyuran woman blushes as if on reflex, and almost everything returns to normal.</p><p>“Did you <em>really </em>think I <em>need</em> to snap my fingers for a bit of magic?” The laugh that leaves him is neither malevolent nor affected; it seems almost far too <em>normal</em> from a man like him. He’s genuinely amused and not simply sardonic. “Oh dear, that’s <em>adorable</em>.”</p><p>“Y-you -- “ Arianna stammers as the red creeps up her face like a mass of crawling ants. She drops his hand as if he had burnt her, though he does not let her discard the other one -- and she’s suddenly too distracted by the sensation of her very bare arms to care for the moment.</p><p>Truly -- he hadn’t had to snap his fingers -- and yet she is very much not in her robes. Instead, she’s clad in a gently flowing blue dress -- surprisingly and blessedly modest. The Ascian has also chosen to change his attire to a traditional-looking suit, complete with a rose in his lapel.</p><p>She lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding in.</p><p>At least she looks, she supposes...passable.</p><p>“Um...ah...th-thank you...for the dress...” Her voice is somewhat subdued as her eyebrows furrow in consternation -- mostly at the relief she feels. She also finds, for some reason -- that she cannot, actually, really, look at <em>him</em>, for some reason. The idea is too overwhelming. somehow.</p><p>Oh, but the rose is quite pretty. Even moreso that it’s fake. How charming -- would it be naive to assume it was because of her? Probably so.</p><p>The hand that holds hers tightens in a mild squeeze. “My pleasure, my dear.” Ah, she really, really cannot look at him. Especially when, for some reason, his voice is strangely soft, and makes her unable to breathe besides, “Shall we dance?”</p><p>The only response she can manage to give to him is a faint nod. There’s another light squeeze of her hand before he carefully pulls her along with him, simply <em>pulling</em> her. A part of her almost wants to ask if he’s mocking her --</p><p>And then, just as she manages to crawl from that delicate mind-state, there is...music.</p><p>There is no one here to play it, neither the pixies nor any phantom Voeburtites, and yet...there is music. A curious sort, unlike anything she’s ever heard before, but strangely nostalgic at the same time. There’s a certain bite to it, but it’s soft, pleasant, she finds she quite <em>likes</em> it. Perhaps it’s supposed to chase away her anxiety, and perhaps it does the trick. When Emet-Selch slowly moves to hold her properly, she allows him, even touching lightly -- but cautiously -- at one of his shoulders. Though she still cannot bring herself to look past his collarbone.</p><p>Neither of them step on one another’s feet; in fact, it is perhaps a bit too natural to be dancing like this, gently swaying to the music. Apart from her inability to look him in the eye, that is. Emet-Selch is, of course, the first to break the silence.</p><p>“You know,” he says with a sigh, “I think it’s quite rude not to look at your dance partner.” She does not reply -- though her green eyes look slowly up his neck, stop at his chin, and dart down to the rose at his pocket. The Ascian sighs again, though says nothing else.</p><p>Perhaps he’s chosen not to speak as his next move, but to <em>do</em>. Tiny motes of light -- like stars plucked from the heavens -- swirl around them both, a beautiful glow to them. One floats past the hyuran woman’s eye level, and she watches it curiously. Of course, it drifts directly past his face, undoubtedly of the Ascian’s own design, and Arianna’s gaze follows it unwittingly. She’s trapped into locking gazes with him, a stuttering of air in her lungs as she very soundly refuses to think to herself that he is any adjective synonymous to <em>handsome</em>, because she’s uncertain of what that might mean for either of them.</p><p>Emet-Selch smirks, and oh, but he <em>is</em>.</p><p>“Not that hard, is it?” he asks lightly, pulling her closer. The flush renews itself to her cheeks, though she can’t bring herself to look away from him. She draws breath very, very carefully.</p><p>Maybe a distant part of her was aware she would need it, for Emet-Selch takes his cue to pull her ever <em>closer</em> -- pushing her into a dip as he looms above her. Though her fingers clench in the fabric at his shoulder, so secure is his hold upon her that the thought he might drop her never once crosses her mind. This is -- just -- very -- she’s -- </p><p>A stray shard of starlight passes between their gazes, separating them for a moment. He is much, much too close.</p><p>“Th-they’re very -- pretty -- ” she manages to stutter, her mind desperately turning for something to say other than being ridiculous and dull.</p><p>“Are they?” His mouth curves. “I’m glad you enjoy them. I do hope you’re enjoying our dance, as well.” He pulls her up, but instead of letting her go -- the music continues, and so does their dance, albeit there’s less distance between them than before.</p><p>“I -- ” She bites her lower lip lightly, before continuing. “...Yes. I-I...am.”</p><p>“Hmm. Then we have no reason to stop, do we?”</p>
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